


Tattoos

by andrasstaie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Friendship/Love, Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-13 10:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5704981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrasstaie/pseuds/andrasstaie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tiri is a Jedi Knight, Master, and General in the Old Republic. Her life is often in the spotlight, but that doesn’t mean she can’t have her own dark secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Much older piece of writing (from probably more than a year ago) that I'm still proud enough of to share. Mostly unedited, though I've tried to correct a few of the grammatical things that were bugging me (but I still may have missed a few).

“Scourge,” she said plainly.

He glanced up from the holo-journal he was studying. Tiri stood at the doorway, only a tightly fitting wrap protecting the modesty of her chest while perfectly tailored slacks took care of the rest. It was, however, not these items that drew his lingering gaze; rather it was the intricately laid tattoos that snaked up her torso, and Tiri could feel the discerning stare. The tattoos were slim, delicate lines, far more detailed than the more prominent ones that adorned her face and Lekku. These tattoos were different, stretching up every inch of her visible body, from lower waist to collar bone; and, as would rightly be presumed, up her back as well. Such markings were not common among Jedi, neither were the true words hidden behind intricately laid patterns. And it was this, Tiri knew, that had caught the former Sith Lord’s attention.

Eventually deep red eyes peeled away from her body, lifting lazily up to her own eyes. There was no emotion across her features, no feeling that any sort of boundaries had been violated by his prolonged regard of her torso. She knew better with him, knew that it was with a curious and studious eye that he gazed upon her body. It was not the same feeling of being scrutinized that she would receive from Doc or Rusk (if any look by Doc could be regarded as something other than lecherous). Scourge was different, and so he was allowed different privileges than others of the crew.  

The purpose of her visit was not out of the ordinary. And therefore he rose wordlessly; setting the datapad he’d been holding upon the bunk and collecting the robe he’d laid across the pillow. Slipping the robe on silently and swiftly, he approached her. Tiri stepped back and turned, the soft sound of her bare feet sliding across the metal deck all that was heard as she moved. The Sith had paused to watch her silently, observing the graceful movements of the Jedi Master; she felt and sensed the gaze, yet made no indication of her awareness. Instead she turned and kneeled, the soft thud of booted feet told her he was finally following in suite.

In the last few months, Tiri had been attempting various mediation rituals with Scourge. All they seemed to accomplish, however, was to discover that he was a rather tolerant soul – all things considered. A sigh escaped her lips, and before they had the opportunity to begin the day’s session; she opened her eyes and lifted a violet gaze to her meditation partner. And in that moment, she felt herself suppressing an intrigued shudder. For the first time her eyes seemed to process his attire, or rather the lack thereof. The shadows cast across his chest from the robe highlighted the deep ridges that seemed to outline the beginning of his muscles.

Moments later, he caught her looking at him, observing her quietly in return. Tiri flushed, luckily for her she was blessed in that such an act was always invisible. Scourge cleared his throat; she opened her mouth, closed it again, opened it once more and then released only a sigh. She had no words for it.

“You puzzle me, Jedi,” he stated calmly, yet also quietly. “Your Order shuns emotions, yet you work so hard to bring to me what they so strongly forbid.” One ridged brow quirked up in a bemused look, “Why?”

She stared at him, almost blankly. He was right. He was always right. A Sith was always right. Tiri had long tried to tell herself it was simply because he’d seen so many years of life; experienced a great many things to bring such a powerful wisdom, but it was more than that… and Tiri knew it. He also knew it, and it seemed to often amuse the man, especially as it was readily clear the truth of his words constantly clouded the Jedi Master’s judgment and ideas. He challenged everything, seemed to accept neither Light nor Dark.

“Because I believe all hurts can be healed,” she started slowly. “And that no single being should be forced to endure such a life as what the Emperor wrought for you.” 

She pursed her lips, pushed a breath out slowly and then continued, “Because there is something more to you than this wall you have carefully crafted. Behind the shield of selfishness, logic, and visions, there is still a mortal man. One I believe is not yet forsaken.”

Oddly, for the man who always had an answer, this gave him pause. She had never been so candid in her answer before. They had always been veiled, kept hidden behind carefully chosen words that did nothing to explain her position. And now, finally, it was all spoken and in the open. They’d both known there was more to it than what she kept telling him and the rest of her Order, yet she had not yet been willing to admit to more than what she preached on the matter.

He continued to stare at her, unblinking, trying to read deeper into the situation through the bounds of the Force. Tiri allowed this, lowering all defensive walls and allowing the Sith to gently push through the thin veil she had left within her mind. Her words were honest, truthful, and something more. Suddenly her mental walls went back up and he stopped, blinked, and shook his head.

“I am sorry,” he said.

It was a strange phrase to be heard from Scourge, and sounded almost alien to her ears. Tiri leaned forward, one of her head tails dipped lower to the floor as she did so. He watched the movement, nearly missing the brush of her hand across his legs as she adjusted herself. Tiri stopped moving, peering right into his eyes. For a change, it was his turn to feel uncomfortable, and for the first time since she had met the Emperor’s Wrath, Tiri could feel the discomfort radiating off his body.

Her dark lips parted, no words came. She’d lost her voice, her thoughts, all dissolved in the shining red of his eyes. They were a fuller, richer color even than her skin, and full of more life and energy than probably any Jedi would give the Sith credit for. Once more her lips opened, closed slowly, and then parted again.

Suddenly Tiri stood, in one swift motion she leaned back and rose to her feet. She extended a hand down to Scourge. He took the offer, though rose with little needed effort on her part. He allowed the loosely fitted robe to collapse to the floor in his wake, releasing the very gentle grip he’d had on Tiri’s hand and wrist.

“Spar me,” she said simply.


	2. Chapter 2

Five minutes passed, or perhaps it was even more than that, and Tiri was panting heavily as she peered across the room at Scourge. There were only the smallest hints of weariness in his features, and truthfully it was only the sheen of his skin under the harsh light of the cargo bay that told Tiri he had exerted any effort at all.

What could almost be construed as envy crept across her features, but very rapidly broke down into a smile and hearty laugh. He gave her a quizzical look, unsure of the reason for her laughter.

“Do you remember when we first met on Quesh?” she asked, quelling her laughter.

“How is that relevant here?” he replied.

“You would have likely owned my sorry rear,” she said between pants, “if not for that force field.”

He still didn’t seem to understand the humor in it and gave her a simple shrug in reply. Tiri sighed and shook her head, then motioned for them to continue. It was hopeless trying to explain such a thing for him, for all the wisdom he seemed to possess, there were still just some matters that went over his head. Or Tiri simply had a twisted, unusual sense of humor; or perhaps a little of both.

As they proceeded in their spar, Tiri lost herself in the focus of what they were doing and, unknowingly, had backed herself into one corner of the cargo bay. It wasn’t until the cold metal bit at her sense as she backed up against it that she realized. A surprised, and very uncharacteristic, squeal spilled out of her lips. Scourge stopped immediately, standing still not even a foot away from her. One hand braced him against the wall, planted to her right side, the other was dropped to his side as he blinked at her in his own form of surprise.

Silence now pierced the cargo bay as they stood there, staring at each other. Not even the sound of their breathing broke the stillness in the air. His large body cast a shadow across her much lither one, but it did not hide the shine in her violet eyes as she blinked up at him. Scourge had no words; Tiri tried desperately to find some of her own.

“Sorry,” was the only word she finally squeaked out.

Flushing across her features was almost a deep purple color in contrast to the red of her skin, blood rushing rapidly to her cheeks. Generally it was no easy task to throw her off guard, and yet Scourge had accomplished it with ease. A smirk tugged at his lips – clearly he had taken note of this – and the embarrassment she felt suddenly transformed into indignation. If the man noticed it, he made no move to correct his actions.

“Ever do you make me wonder, Jedi,” he finally said in a low voice. “Perfection among your Order and yet you always hide from the very same emotions that make you so strong.”

“That has nothing to do with this,” she retorted quickly. 

He parted his lips to throw out his own response, but the words died before they even reached his tongue. His attention was drawn elsewhere, and Tiri briefly watched his eyes trace the right side of her face. Scourge’s hand soon followed his eyes and her attention was quickly drawn to the sudden movement. It was, however, a slow and deliberate action as he studied the scar that covered nearly half her face. They were, themselves, small however it was a large cluster that stretched down from her temple to her chin and from the middle of her cheek back just past the end of her jaw line. They were hidden, usually, by the average onlooker with the combination of her dark skin tone and even darker tattoos that covered her face and Lekku. It was understandable if they were not readily visible to someone like him until now.

“These are from lightning burns, are they not?” Scourge half stated, half asked as his fingers traced the multitude of lines across the right side of her face. “They are also not recent.”

Tiri’s eyes fluttered closed and she nodded slowly in a preliminary answer.

“For the first ten years of my life, I was a slave,” she began quietly, “and my master often found herself in the employ of Imperials.” She opened her eyes again and shifted them upwards toward his gaze. “I had just turned ten; my mistress was hosting some party that even now I can’t comprehend the purpose. I was serving drinks to her guests when one of the young officers thought it would be funny to trip me. I spilled an entire tray over a visiting acolyte from the academy. I suppose I was lucky that he was not so skilled in the art of lightning. There was no lasting damage… the Jedi that rescued me; he said I was lucky the shot taken at me had not grazed just a little closer along my face,” she ended awkwardly, casting her gaze away.

“Fortunate indeed,” he eventually responded, rather absently as he continued his study of the scars.

Unbeknownst to the two in the cargo bay, in this moment the main entry door to the ship slid open. Doc, Sargent Rusk, and HK-51 stepped through and proceeded to ascend the steps to the main deck. Their presence was quickly announced however, unsurprisingly by Doc.

“Honey, we’re home!”

Tiri froze; Scourge cringed ever so slightly and stepped away from her swiftly. She was slowly sinking down the wall in further embarrassment. Scourge, on the other hand, had walked over to where his robe had fallen. Picking it up in one fluid movement, he was quickly near Tiri again. With an odd kindness, he extended a hand to help her back to her feet, and once she was up, replaced that hand with the robe for her to use. Extremely grateful on both counts, she graciously took the offers and gave him a warm – albeit rather sheepish – smile.

As the large man moved out of the room with uncanny swiftness, Tiri pulled his robe over her shoulders and wrapped it as best she could around her body. It was almost laughable how large it was on her slender frame, but it certainly sufficed for its purpose.

She stepped out of the cargo bay and was suddenly face to face with Doc. There was no suspicious look to his features, and so she assumed he had not spotted the large Sith on his way back to the crew quarters. This small moment of realization allowed her to relax ever so slightly.

“Well look at you,” he said with a smirk, eyes dashing up and down her body, “seems like you really can entertain yourself while I’m off shopping!”

Tiri stifled a groan, but couldn’t hold back the need to roll her eyes at the smirk he gave her. Doc had to be the most insufferable man she had ever met in her life and if it weren’t for his skills as a doctor, she’d have probably left the lecherous man on Balmorra.

“Indeed I can,” she answered sharply. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” she sidestepped him. “I need to check in with Kira and Teeseven.”

He, based upon the dejected look that flashed across his face, unwillingly complied and stepped back. She had to give him credit for this, he’d learned in his time working with her that when she meant business, she most certainly meant business and it was best not to be in her way. Tiri watched as he turned slowly, and then moved with his typical swagger into the med bay to unpack his freshly bought supplies.

Tiri relaxed further and dashed up the steps almost two at a time to the main deck. Ducking into her quarters, she did not miss the feeling of the critical look upon her retreating back. It could only be Rusk, and it was easy to shrug off. The soldier looked at everyone with the same critical eye, and whatever had possibly crossed his mind was of little concern to Tiri. He kept most of his opinions to himself and those that he did not, she took little stock in, for they often were very contrary to her nature and style of handling situations.


	3. Chapter 3

The call to Kira and Teeseven had not been placed immediately. Instead, Tiri had closed the door to her quarters and sunk down on the bed. Having intended to only spend a couple moments there to compose herself and clear her mind, it became a rude awakening to hear the beeping from the nearby table. She’d dozed off, and Kira was now reaching out to her. She stirred and realized she had slept for at least a good hour, if not more.

“Hey boss,” she said when Tiri finally answered the holo call.

“Hey yourself,” Tiri replied with a smile. “Are things going well?”

The drowsiness, unfortunately, crept into her voice near the end of her sentence. As much as Tiri tried to hide it and pretend it wasn’t there, Kira noticed and began to laugh.

“Sleeping on the job again, Master?” she teased through giggles.

Tiri shot her former padawan a look that could melt Hoth, but it was (fortunately) lost across the static of the holo frequency.

“Not funny, now how are things going?” she asked again, more firmly this time.

After a sigh, Kira replied, “They’re fine, would you stop worrying?”

“A master is allowed to worry,” she retorted with a light laugh. “Doc and Rusk made it back with HK a little while ago,” she added. “They’ve restocked our supply stores and we’ll be all set when you two are back.”

There was a presence Tiri could feel at her door, a familiar once, and she glanced sidelong at it waiting for Kira to acknowledge. The astute woman on the other end of the holo seemed to pick up on the distraction and finally answered.

“We shouldn’t be much longer, Master. Teeseven came up with one more lead and we’re going to check up on it. We should be finished by tomorrow night,” Kira paused and added with a laugh: “by Nar Shaddaa standards.”

“May the Force be with both of you,” Tiri said, giving a light nod to confirm Kira’s plan.

She clicked the comm channel closed and placed the device back down on the table. Rising to her feet, she wrapped the robe more tightly around her body. With a simple wave of her hand, she guided the Force to open the door for her. It was Scourge.

“We did not finish what we had started,” he stated flatly. 

Tiri blinked in surprise. She certainly thought things had come to a grinding halt the moment she embarrassed herself squealing like a baby Kath Hound.

“Y-you mean the meditation?” she asked hesitantly, stepping aside to allow him entry to the room.

Silently, the Sith accepted the unspoken offer to enter and she slid the door closed behind him. Tiri spun on her heel, but was met only with his back. He’d yet to say a word, and she began to wonder if he was going to say anything at all. Silently watching him, she noted he appeared almost distant. With an air of caution, she inched forward and ventured a touch to his broad shoulders. He did not flinch – as expected – instead he turned his head slowly and looked at her. Dark red eyes peered out under his strong brow ridges, studying her, watching every small movement she dared take.

Tiri recognized the look and it was one of wonder – not danger. Any other might have cowered away in fear; instead she found a bit more of her courage. Removing her hand, she let his oversized robe slide off her slender frame. Catching it before it hit the floor, she tossed it to the bed behind him, and Scourge turned slowly to look at her. His eyes were immediately drawn to her tattoos.

“Tell me more of these,” he stated as he dared to reach out and touch her bare skin.

Without so much as a twitch, Tiri allowed this, watching his movements. They started out almost awkwardly as he found the contours of her body and traced them around the markings. As he progressed, they became smoother, and never anything but gentle. She closed her eyes, there was only one way he could see all which he desired, and it required a privilege she had granted to not a single soul in the galaxy – not since the tattoos had been forced upon her those many years ago as a child.

As she stepped back, away from his studious touch, she heard a very faint grunt of frustration. This made her smile as she looked at him, spinning slowly and gracefully around to show him her back. While Scourge’s eyes traced the visible tattoos down her back, she slowly tugged the garment protecting her chest up and over her head. Haphazardly, she discarded the item on the floor nearby, focusing more on moving her Lekku for him to expose her back completely. Both head tails draped neatly over her front, but granted not a bit of modesty to her now exposed chest.

Tiri turned her head to look over her shoulder at him. He was simply observing her for the moment, and she tried to suppress a shiver with a sudden chill. This attempt was unsuccessful, so she decided to figure out a less chilly option to allow him study of her tattoos. Turning slowly, carefully, she went back over toward her bed and wordlessly lied down on her stomach. Her headtails draped over each shoulder as she glanced back at him out of the corner of her eye. The movement, however brief, had allowed him just enough time to note that the freshly exposed skin on her chest also bore more markings; crisscrossing up each breast and tapering out at her collar bone.

Finally, after what felt like an eon had passed, Scourge moved slowly toward the bed. At first he simply sat on the edge and twisted his body to study the tattoos, but it rapidly became uncomfortable. So in one fluid, swift motion, he straddled her legs and sat back on his haunch, staring down at Tiri’s exposed back.

“These are Sith writings,” he explained, voice low.

Each of his nimble fingers seemed to find a different curve and line of her body and marks to dance across. As he focused and began to find sense among them, he applied a little more force to his touch.

“Here,” he traced down her spine and to her lower back, “is the Sith Code… written in the old language of my people.”

Scourge knew better than the recite it for her, instead he continued gaze in what Tiri could only describe in wonder. She closed her eyes and rested her head against her arms, which she had folded in front of her body. 

Tiri remained stretched out her stomach, Scourge straddled over her examining the tattoos. It was soon very apparent that not everything was yet visible. Catching a sense of something off, Tiri turned her head to the side and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. She felt what was happening before she saw it. The tips of his fingers slid between the waist of the pants that she still wore, and slowly they curled around the fabric. He didn’t move his hands, though, they remained there and Tiri was able to stave off the tensing of her muscles. She continued to watch him attentively, and mere moments later he was speaking.

“May I?” he asked, much to her surprise.

Her mind clouded, she pondered the implications of what he was requesting and how far they’d already gone. Two things battled back and forth in her mind. First was the fact that she knew his curiosity drove him, and that more than anything else this was an endeavor in learning. The opposite side continued to remind her that he was still a man, one that was forbidden on multiple levels. She swallowed hard and took her gaze away, shifting her head back to stare straight at the wall. Slowly her head began to nod, not even a full minute had passed since the question was posed.

“You may,” she confirmed verbally.

What happened next came as a surprise. Scourge had slid further down on the bed and excruciatingly slowly tugged the well fitted fabric down with him. The movement was slow, gentle, and patient. As more of her skin was revealed it became clear that nearly every inch of her body from her collar bone down to mid-thigh was covered in intricately laid tattoos. On her legs, the patterns tapered out much as they did on her chest.

With much more revealed and the pants carefully discarded off the bed, the man straddling her legs showed extreme caution and care as he moved back up her body. His eyes fell to where he had last been reading. Every bit of her back was covered in the Sith Code, but it was not this single fact that intrigued Scourge the most – it was the fact that it was written in his native tongue.

“These,” he started quietly, “are not just the Code.”

Tiri twisted her head around again to look at him.

“But I thought you said…” she cut herself off as a gasp escaped her lips.

He paused, clearly having noted her reaction to the soft movement of his hands over her rear. However, when her body did not tense up completely, he continued.

“They are written in the language of my people,” he said quietly. The words written across her backside were murmured under his breath, and while she could hear the words, she did not understand them. The language was completely alien to her, but she could hear the passion and the power behind the way it was spoken.

“Why do you keep these hidden?” he asked after a long silence had pervaded the room.

“It’s difficult to explain,” she said after a moment.

“Is it because of their meaning?” he offered as a launching point.

Tiri didn’t take the bait. “No.” She paused and sighed. “I never knew what they meant – if anything – until now.”

Scourge crept forward, leaning down closer over top of her as his eyes scanned up her body now. Both his hands and his knees kept him straddled at a safe distance above her, but soon Tiri could feel his breath upon her neck. She closed her eyes and tried desperately to think clearly, but no amount of mental incantations of the Jedi Code proved helpful.  

“I guess I always believed it was my mistress’ way of ‘marking me’ and making me not just hers, but undesirable to anyone else,” she closed her eyes and let out a slow breath.

A very long silence passed between them, saturating the room. All she could hear was the steady breathing between the two of them, all she could feel was the heat of his body radiating against her own.  It was confusing and exhilarating all at the same time, and left a thick fog upon her sense and reason.

“Neyt’iri,” he breathed.

Her body gave an involuntary shudder at the sound of her full name rolling off his tongue in a low, husky tone.

“You are more beautiful than any woman I have ever known,” he drew out slowly.

“More…” she echoed, struggling to process everything.

“And it is because of everything you are,” he continued. “Everything,” he emphasized. Shifting to one side so he could free a hand to trace the trailing ends of her tattoos at her shoulder blades.

“Scourge, I…” she began, but before she could even begin to find the words, he hushed her.

There was nothing else he seemed intent on saying, however, and instead of resuming his exploration of her tattoos he shifted his body to her left side; lowering himself to the empty space of the bed next to her. One arm remained draped, instinctively and protectively, across her torso. Tiri found herself shifting just enough to curl up on her side against his body, burying her head against his powerful chest.


	4. Chapter 4

At some point, beyond Tiri’s recognition, they had shifted in their rest. When she awoke, she was covered by the blanket on her bed. Scourge was also on his back, still asleep. Tiri’s eyes fluttered open lightly, taking in her surroundings slowly. She was still using him as a pillow and her eyes focused in on the steady rise and fall of his chest as he continued to sleep. The more she became aware, however, the more she remembered the compromising state she had fallen asleep in. A light brush of her foot against his leg gave her the slight reassurance that he remained in the trousers he’d fallen asleep in, and she breathed out slowly – slight relief relaxing her mind.

That relief, unfortunately for Tiri, was evanescent. A chime at her door forced her more rudely and abruptly awake, also stirring her bunk buddy. Scourge awoke and peered down at her, she tensed, slowly sliding away from the comfort of his body and out of the bed. Looking around she extended her hand and called to her with the Force the nearest robe to cover her body. Wrapping it around herself, she slid the door open only enough to see and speak to the person on the other side.

“Well good morning, darling!” She grimaced at Doc’s cheery greeting. “Always a ray of sunshine,” he added with a grin. “Normally I’d let such a lovely woman get her beauty rest,” he continued, pausing to try a glance beyond her into the room.

Tiri blocked any view he might have of the man still in the room, and stared at Doc. “But…” she pressed, desiring to get him out of her face as quickly as possible.

He gave up. “But the Jedi Council called on the holo looking for you. They’re waiting to speak with you now,” he finished. He started as if he was going to say more, took in the look of Death from her face, closed his mouth again, and gave a nod.

Tiri relaxed, sighing as he turned and left, closing the door and sliding down against it – ashamed. Scourge was already up and about, picking up his own robe and pulling it on over his shoulders. He looked down at her with a studious gaze.

“Ever do I wonder about you,” he said in a low voice. 

She closed her eyes a moment, but at the sound of his voice let out another sigh as she rose to her feet. Silently – as she had nothing she could consider to say in response – she let the robe slip off her shoulders. It cascaded to the metal floor in a heap, and she opened the modest armoire nearby. She was pulling out her typical robes when Scourge came up behind her, touching her arms. Tiri flinched in surprise, turning slightly to look at him.

“If it brings you any comfort,” he said, leaning forward, “I would never lay a hand upon you without your permission.”

“I know,” she responded.

And she did, deep down in her bones, she did know this. Yet it brought more comfort to hear him say it, and she visibly relaxed further, finally falling into her normal calm posture. She didn’t ask, but he helped her into the tunic and as she sat on the bed pulling her boots on, he headed for the door. Tiri didn’t look up to him as he paused to glance at her, quickly and silently departing the room.

A few minutes later, Tiri was ready and heading for the common area where their main holo terminal was located. And as she made the call to the council, she noted from the corner of her eye that Scourge had dressed and was dipping quietly into the side of the room – to observe without being seen.

“Ah Master Tiri,” Satele said with a warm smile, “it’s good to see you.”

“And you, Master,” Tiri replied bowing lightly to the head of her Order.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your break, but you’re needed on Tython. There’s an urgent matter that we feel only you can handle.”

Tiri gave a puzzled tilt to her head, “what is it, Master?” she asked.

“I cannot discuss it over this channel,” Satele responded, “we’ll talk about it when you arrive.”

“Understood,” Tiri replied.

“And one more thing, General Garza has requested a temporary assignment of your Sargent Rusk to Havoc Squad. You’re to rendezvous with Major Lenella of Havoc Squad on the station above Tython first.”

“Yes, Master,” she said. “See you soon.”

The channel cut out and Tiri turned to see Rusk had come in on the latter part of the conversation, he looked to her and she nodded to him.

“Pack your essentials, you’re officially on loan to Havoc Squad, Sargent,” she said with a smile.

“Yes, sir, Master Jedi,” he answered and gave a quick salute before disappearing.

“I will take HK with me planet side, to be safe,” Tiri said before Scourge could make any comments.

She looked over at him and saw the brief brow quirk and slight chuckle.

“I know how you feel about it, I’ll trust you to keep things in order here till I get back,” she said and smiled to him.

“Of course,” he responded gruffly.


End file.
